


Yes

by AsexualDerek (Cammerel)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, Marriage Proposal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-09
Updated: 2014-11-09
Packaged: 2018-02-24 11:50:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2580437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cammerel/pseuds/AsexualDerek
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He’s got big plans for their collective future and if he doesn’t fix things, then it’ll all have been for nothing. And what he has with Stiles isn’t something he wants to throw away.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Yes

**Author's Note:**

> This is a small part of a bigger fic, but you don't have to have read that part to be able to appreciate this one.

Scott can respect the fact that Stiles wants some space right now, but he feels like the other man is blowing the situation a little out of proportion. Not only that, but he also feels that the blame laid on him is unfair; it’s not like he purposefully forgot to pick Stiles up from class three times in the same week.

School’s been hard on the both of them lately, they’ve been swamped, and Scott’s not nearly as quick about picking things up as Stiles is - so more often than not he’s awake until 3 or 4 o’clock in the morning cramming in a study session. Each time he’s forgotten to pick Stiles up, it was because he was exhausted to the point to where he accidentally fell asleep between his own classes, something not at all intentional.

It’s been nearly two weeks and with every day that passes without Stiles coming home to their apartment, Scott finds himself feeling more and more restless, depressed even, because he’s never really had to go so long without Stiles before. They’ve practically been joined at the hip since kindergarten and he just wants his best friend back.

The decision to drive to Stiles’s dad’s house is spur of the moment and he’s not even sure if Stiles wants to see him, but he has to say something, he needs to apologize. He’s got big plans for their collective future and if he doesn’t fix things, then it’ll all have been for nothing. And what he has with Stiles isn’t something he wants to throw away.

After parking, Scott jogs up to the front door and combs a shaky hand through his hair before knocking, hoping more than anything that he’ll be able to at least get a few words out before Stiles ends up slamming the door in his face.

* * *

Stiles narrows his brows as he takes his head out from under the spray of water and glances around. His dad isn’t home, and he’s not really expecting any guests, so he’s assuming that he’s hearing things, but he waits silently, listening for another knock to follow.

* * *

Scott could probably just let himself in if he really wanted to, he has the key to do it, but he doesn’t want to push his luck, so he reaches out and knocks again, harder this time.

* * *

Stiles sighs in annoyance and climbs out of the shower hurriedly, shampoo still soaped up in his hair, suds dropping down his shoulders as he grabs a towel, wrapping it around his waist before darting out of the bathroom, nearly slipping and falling on his face, “Coming!” he shouts as he bolts down the stairs, muttering to himself: “One fucking second,” before stopping at the door, unlocking it, and wrenching it open, “Ye-... Scott,” he says flatly, deflating.

The way Stiles says his name makes Scott’s chest hurt, “Hey, can we talk?” he asks, and as he looks Stiles over he realizes he probably showed up at a really bad time.

“I’m showering,” Stiles responds shortly, still able to hear the water running upstairs, and it’ll probably be cold by the time he gets back.

“Well, um-” Scott grimaces thoughtfully and shrugs, “You can still shower, I can like sit on the toilet or something and talk to you. I just-I really need you to hear me out.”

“Scott,” Stiles sighs, a pool of water forming at his feet, “I can’t do this right now. I don’t even want to. I can’t talk, I have an interview in like… negative five minutes, and I-I can’t talk to you right now.”

“You have an interview?” Scott asks then, “You didn’t tell me,” he frowns and tries to shrug the disappointment off, “Why-this needs to stop, Stiles,” he tells the other man firmly.

Stiles rolls his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest, “My water’s getting cold.”

Scott huffs out through his nose, upset with how Stiles is acting, “You know that I didn’t mean to forget you, I’d never intentionally make you walk that far. Mid-terms were kicking both of our asses, okay? And-and what you did… the moving out, you acting like this towards me, it’s not fair - you know me better than that.”

“Three times, Scott,” Stiles responds, narrowing his eyes, “Three times in a **week**. I don’t have time to sit here and talk this shit through with you,” he huffs, reaching out to close the door, “Come back some time later, when my future isn’t on the line.”

Scott doesn’t understand how Stiles is still holding it all against him, especially considering Stiles knows how late he stays up to study, just to make sure he knows what he needs to know. Mindlessly, he reaches out and stops Stiles from shutting the door with his hand, “Marry me,” he blurts out suddenly, at wits end.

Stiles stops and looks at Scott, his lips pursing as he frowns, “Scott,” he says seriously, “This isn’t the time to fuck with me, I have an interview, and I’m late for it.”

“I’m not fucking with you,” Scott responds and the frantic beating of his heart is almost deafening as he reaches into his pocket, pulling out the small velvet box. He’s pretty sure Stiles would kill him if he got down on one knee right now, so he doesn’t bother, flipping the box open before holding it out to him.

“Please,” he implores, “Marry me.”

Stiles’s mouth pops open as he looks down at the ring, his back going rigid and his tongue practically gluing itself to the roof of his mouth. He feels like his legs are turning into lead just standing there, but he can’t bring himself to actually say or do anything.

Scott watches Stiles and fights the urge to hold his breath in anticipation, but when the other man doesn’t really react at all, he steps into the house and closes the door behind himself. He takes the ring out of the box and puts the box back into his pocket, reaching out for Stiles’s hand to gently slide the ring onto his ring finger.

“Go finish showering and get to your interview,” he says quietly, rubbing his thumb over the ring before letting Stiles’s hand go, “Think about it when you’re not so stressed and just… let me know.”

Stiles stares at the ring on his finger as the tears blur his vision, he’s not sure if his heart’s racing or skipping beats entirely, “Let you know,” he mutters as he looks up to Scott, “Like I even have to think about it-yes,” he says, reaching out and grabbing Scott’s cheeks before kissing him.

Scott lets out a heavy, surprised breath against Stiles’s lips and wills his body to catch up with his brain, arms reaching out and curling around the other man’s waist, embracing him tightly as he kisses back, “You’ll marry me?”

“Are you kidding? It’s not even a question,” Stiles says, but he’s practically sobbing as he tries to talk, being both wet and cold don’t really help, and most of him is still in shock.

“No more stupid fights,” Scott mumbles then and kisses Stiles’s damp cheeks, hand smoothing up his fiance’s spine, “Now let’s go get you ready for your interview, yeah? You’ve still got soap in your hair.”

“Oh fuck,” Stiles responds, almost having completely forgotten the whole reason why he’s downstairs, wearing a towel, in the first place.

“Yeah,” Scott nods knowingly and turns Stiles around by the hips, patting him on the butt and urging him towards the staircase, “Go get back in the shower. You got clothes picked out yet?”

Stiles shakes his head numbly as he starts towards the stairs, “Uh, no,” he says, still numb from the neck down, “Who pre-picks out their clothes?”

“Normal people?” Scott responds and follows after Stiles, “Get rinsed off and I’ll lay something out for you to wear.”


End file.
